Archives for July 2016

I work in plastics. Well, not actually in them, just with them. I’m a press operator, and I’m responsible for inspecting and packing parts, configuring pallets, and babysitting half of my crew members. I work for a company that cares more about tiny bits of polyethylene than the well being of its employees. The head honcho is more concerned about the fact I’m not at my machine, rather than the reason why. That reason being, I had just properly sliced my finger wide open on a sorry excuse for a box cutter, that they themselves had provided me. Instead of being concerned with my safety and well-being, their issue lies with my blood on their product, and how much of a pathogen threat I am. They were quick to shut my line down and decontaminate the area, while I stood idly by, blood-soaked rag getting bloodier by the moment. This is the place where you’ll sooner get, “Jesus, you’re not going to need stitches, are you?” rather than, “Oh my god, are you okay? Here, let’s get you bandaged up.”

I understand that many people believe that this job is better than no job at all, but there are times I beg to differ. Yes, I’m making a steady paycheck. Yes, I can (barely) pay my bills; but at what true cost? No respectable human being should sacrifice their sanity and self-worth for a measly $9.35 an hour.

“Rarely ever did I even know the time. I was just following a pattern. I started slipping – no, free falling – into insanity. I’d gone absolutely bonkers.”

At the end of part one, I’d quit a job selling solar door to door, because door to door sales is a stupid job. After that debacle, I applied to solar companies that had real leads, and who needed experienced sales staff. I emailed five of them, and received a reply from one of the businesses within a few days. They were a small company looking for independent contractors (Commission only). Later that day, I spoke to a gentleman from the company who set up an interview at a mall. O.K. that seemed odd, but you overlook obvious red flags when you’re unemployed. He explained their home office was in a remote part of the city, and this was easier for candidates to get to.

The interviewer was a portly, bald gentleman in his mid to late 50’s. We met at the food court, and I came prepared to talk about my experience. Instead, he spoke about his experience, and how he’d been asked to be the sales manager for the guys who started the business. He bragged about selling millions of dollars worth of solar arrays. I was pretty attentive to his bullshit, and when I asked him if he’d hire me, his response was literally, “Sure, why not. You seem o.k.” With that enthusiastic endorsement I was once again, a proud working man. More accurately, I was now a part of the gig economy. I received no benefits, no salary, no bonuses. Just a paltry commission that would be taxed at the end of the year. But enough about our shitty economy.

“Let me tell you, nothing screams “great job” like training at the sales manager’s apartment. He told me not to worry about bringing anything. Not even pants, Red?”

Two years ago I decided to hang up my Air Force uniform in exchange for the civilian life. I remember well the transition assistance program (TAP), the mock interviews, and resume preparation that readied me for my leap into the civilian world. My confidence was brimming: friends who recently left the military were now making twice the salary. Charles Anderson, who was in the Air Force with me is a prime example of this success. Charles and I were military policeman: we used to make at least 40k a year. Now, Charles is a civilian cop in Texas making 53k a year.

Statistically speaking, I knew that finding a job wouldn’t be a problem. Nearly half of U.S. employers (47 percent) had hired a veteran in the last year, compared to 44 percent in 2014. 31 percent had also hired veterans who recently returned from duty. The odds seemed to be in my favor, though one key detail flew under my radar—underemployment. At least 14 percent of veterans report being underemployed.

“Ben Keen was honorably discharged from the military in 2008. During his transition, a staffing professional called Keen asking if he would be interested in a $12 an hour job as a call center representative”

Maureen Judge is an award winning documentary filmmaker. She’s directed and produced numerous documentaries, televisions series, and short documentaries. Her most recent film, My Millennial Life follows the daily lives of several twenty-somethings as they struggle to find meaningful work, deal with debts, money, and relationships. It’s a fascinating portrait of a generation trying to find their place in the world amid an erratic economy, and a dearth of good jobs. We recently had the opportunity to interview Maureen about the documentary. She opened up about making the film, and what she sees as “a huge gap between the dream our generation promised millennials and the reality they experience.”

The Underemployed Life: Why did you want to film a documentary focusing on millennials? Did you have any preconceptions of millennials as a group before you started the film?

Maureen Judge: I decided to make My Millennial Life when I became aware of the high percentage of unemployed and underemployed among college and university graduates. I wanted to explore how the shortage of jobs and the lack of a foreseeable future affects becoming an adult in 21st century North American society.

Tim from My Millennial Life

TUL: How did you choose the people who are in the documentary? Were you looking for millennials with specific backgrounds or degrees?

MJ: I wanted to focus on college and university grads. As boomers, we raised our children with the expectation that education would provide the ticket to a middle class future. We succeeded in educating — since 1981 there has been an almost 60% increase of 25-29 year olds with post-secondary degrees — but we haven’t provided the jobs. There’s a huge gap between the dream our generation promised millennials and the reality they experience.

Emily, one of the subjects in the film sums it up: “In my mind growing up, it was like, after public school you go to high school, after high school you go to university, you get your degree and then you’re somebody. And I thought that that entitled me to some type of career but really that’s just simply not the case.”

Emily was the first subject I approached to be in the film. She was renting an apartment in my basement, and I watched her go from a triumphant grad to a depressed, lonely, and jobless individual. Because I had seen her highs and lows, and believed she stood a good chance of getting back on her feet, I felt her story would have a dramatic arch, and be very relatable to millennial audiences.

Emily from My Millennial Life, photo by Maya Bankovic

Once Emily agreed to be in the documentary, the other subjects fell into place. Hope, at 26, is desperate to move out of her childhood home; Meron has incredible optimism in spite of her job cleaning hotel rooms; James, a young entrepreneur with a successful start-up, is still financially dependent on his parents; and Tim has dreams of being a musician, and wiles away his days in a low wage, dead-end job.

In the interactive documentary, we meet Kristy who has two degrees, Aboriginal Studies and Education, and yet she has to move home because she can’t find a full- time teaching job. And there’s Mark, who, seeing few job prospects, is content to live a bohemian existence and works as a waiter.

Kristy from My Millennial Life, photo by Graeme Ring

TUL: I was surprised at how open the subjects were. Did they slowly warm up in front of the cameras or were they unguarded from the start?

MJ: I believe mutual respect and trust are the most important ingredients for breaking down existing barriers between director and subject. When I’m filming, I try to reserve judgment about my subjects and let them express themselves freely. When we are shooting, we are a small intimate crew, and the camera becomes an extension of the relationship.

“When I began the project, I noticed that everywhere I turned people were dumping on millennials, blaming them for having expectations of work and for not working.”

In 2013 I had a seven month dry spell between jobs. I was desperate for anything, and that’s exactly what I got-something desperate. Bryon, a friend from college, was starting a business, and was looking for salespeople, and hired me. His company rented solar power to home owners. I knew very little about solar, but I needed a job. My only condition was I wouldn’t go door to door. He told me not to worry as he had telemarketers pre-qualifying homes.

Bryon told me he’d train me at his home, unpaid, and I was OK with that since he was taking a risk on me. When I got to Bryon’s house for the first training session, he was distracted with his wife, child, phone calls, dog, and work. He was ill prepared to teach me much, and the night was a bit of a waste. He did show me a diagram of how the business was going to succeed, and to his credit, he drew a fabulous design on his whiteboard. It was a real A+ drawing, unfortunately the diagram had nothing to do with actually selling or learning solar.

We got together again a week later. Bryon taught me how to calculate electricity rates versus the cost of renting solar. I asked him why someone wouldn’t just own as opposed to renting solar “Because it makes no sense for them to own,” he told me. I said. “Well what if the customer asks about the differences?” He said, “They shouldn’t ask. Don’t worry about it.” Then he gently caressed my neck. No, he didn’t, but he might as well have for how patronizing he was. Nearly every query was met with “you don’t need to worry about that.” Well, that worried me. We adjourned after two hours, and he asked me to come back the following week.

“The towing company, like all towing companies, known for their discount pricing and excellent public reputation, wanted 430 dollars to release my car.”

Created in 2007, Glassdoor is a sleek, supposedly neutral service. It provides job leads, salary information, and testimonials about businesses that operate in this modern, global economy where transparency is king. But is it neutral? Is it transparent? Is it even helpful?

Few Americans live in a world where they work for just one or two companies until retirement. And the methods for searching for work have changed drastically in recent years. So when a website promises to make the job searching process easier for a potential employee, it almost sounds too good to be true.

“The site may be the business casual equivalent of Yelp, and dubious in its transparency, but it can provide insight if you want to be prepared for the worst.”

Howdy folks, my name is Drew Edwards, I’m a thirty-seven year old resident of the fine city of Austin, who spends most of his days as a not-so mild mannered sales representative in the vast grocery store industry. You could live in my city for years, walk past me hundreds of times, and not give me a second thought. I would probably lump into the mass of faces that make up your ritualistic visits to the grocery store.

Like most people, I’m more than just my job. I have special abilities and a secret identity that sets me apart from most other folks. For fifteen plus years I’ve been toiling away, writing an independent comic book called (cue theme music) HALLOWEEN MAN! It’s just your typical weird adventure series starring an undead superhero, and his “pinup-y” super-scientist girlfriend.

Image from Halloween Man by Nicola Scott.

On top of that, I work as a talent booker in the Austin music scene, and run a production company with my wife, Jamie, a wonderfully talented musician I’m also an avid podcaster and blogger. I enjoy my life and like to keep really, really, busy.

For the purposes of this piece, I’m going to lay the hammer down, and tell brutal truths of what it’s like to be a working creative person in early 21st century America. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll clear up a few misconceptions about the oh so glamorous comic book industry.

First, let me paint you a scene. You’re going about your work, minding your own business in what seems like a pretty normal day. Next thing you know, you have a person or persons heckling you or calling you a liar. Believe it or not, this has happened to me countless times over the last several years. Why you ask? People’s expectations is the short answer, but let’s back this up for a second.

“Heeeeeeey, I know you, you do that comic, Halloween Man!”he yells at the top of his lungs. I nodded “yes,” but noticed he seemed weirded out by my presence here. “So, what are you like, doing here, man?”